


Can't Bear to Look Away

by isonlyme



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Not Canon Compliant, Reddie Fluff, Sleepovers, Sleepy Cuddles, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, aged up 16-17, hand holding, headcanons sorry, kind of ooc, mild homophobia, my boys being fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29972760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isonlyme/pseuds/isonlyme
Summary: Eddie and Richie have been keeping some secrets about their friendship from the Losers. Even from each other.ORWhere Eddie has a sleepover at Richie’s house and wakes up very confused.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Reddie - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	1. 'My Love'

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!! 
> 
> (I just finished reading IT and I sobbed my little heart out and am probably going to be writing reddie fluff/whump for a goooood while so enjoy that!!! In my corner we are strong supporters of fluff to fix all our problems 🥺)
> 
> Anyway!! I really liked this AU where everyone has their own little slice of happy (and fluff dialogue starters on Pinterest are a LIFE. SAVER.) and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!! Kudos and comments always blessed and appreciated, lovelies. ~𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡

* * *

_“Left my shoes in the street so you’d carry me_  
_Through a breakdown_  
_Or a blackout_  
_Would you make out with me_  
_On the floor of the mezzanine”_

**_\- clementine / halsey_ **

* * *

If he had to endure the sound of his mother’s voice one more time, Eddie was going to explode. Not just the _sound_ of her voice. The added remarks that appeared unwanted in his head when he least expected them. Like flies. 

_Eddie, sweetheart, don’t forget your vitamins. Don’t touch that! It’ll give you cancer! Don’t be driving so fast. If you set a single shoe on that carpet those disgusting germs will sit there forever― the house could have mold! Are you sure you want to hang around that Tozier boy? Because he looks like bad news to me..take my word for it, dear. Bad news all around._

He had to get out, at least for the night. _A temporary escape,_ he thought. Even the word ‘escape’ soothed him. Eddie hurried around the bedroom for clothes to stash inside his backpack, hoping Richie wouldn’t mind an unexpected visit. _Another_ unexpected visit. 

Too many times did Eddie find himself biking to Richie’s unannounced, when he wished he could just get away from his mother. But like always, Richie welcomed him inside, no questions asked― by rushing upstairs before Mrs. Tozier could ask who’d come at such a late hour― and let Eddie seek refuge in his room. Pass out on his bed, free from the smell of cleaning chemicals. _Don’t think about that part._ His train of thought stopped abruptly at something Richie had said days ago: _If you're sleeping over all the time, Eds, might as well just live here with me for God’s sakes! You take up half my bed, ya big baby._ The memory made his cheeks hot and the shirt he’d pulled out of a drawer fall limp from his hands. 

_“And just where do you think you’re going?”_ Eddie’s mother reamed him from the sitting room, already riled up from an argument at dinner and stayed awake― in case Eddie snuck out, he assumed. He only continued down the steps, the bag’s weight shifting behind him in every footfall. 

“To a friend’s.” 

One pencilled eyebrow shot up, encompassing the vastness of her face. “Is this _friend_ who I think it is?” She asked with her arms crossed over her chest. 

Eddie knew she’d let him go. She’d poke and prod at all his weak spots till there was nothing left but the slam of the front door as he stormed outside. 

_“It’s nothing like that.”_ he whispered to himself. He found his bike in the dark grass of their front yard and started to Richie’s house, his eyes searching the midnight expanse of sky, sighing up at the thin creamy crescent of the moon. (“ _Ain’t she a beauty, Eddie?”_ his voice speaking out into the night, thin legs dangling out of the windowsill while Eddie sat with his head on his shoulder, both staring up sleepy at the moon. It was one in the morning then, Eddie remembered. Richie turned to prop his chin on the top of his head and chuckle, “ _But not as beautiful as you.”)_

_Don’t think about that._

There wasn’t a word for what Richie and Eddie had. To him it was just the late hours spent at his house; Richie opening the front door and immediately taking his trembling hands―" _What’s wrong? What did she do?”_ ―and as he slept everything slowly turned to dawn, allowing Eddie to forget. And Richie to snore beside him, oblivious. 

Maybe Eddie wanted it to be _something_ , he wanted to find a _word_ for what they shared. But even during times his tired eyes glanced over to see Richie still awake in bed, posing the perfect time to speak up; his stomach would twist in fear and everything closed in on him like a bad asthma attack. Because _if_ he decided to say something, Eddie couldn’t bear to hear the reply that would shatter the haven they’d created. _Where would I run to then?_ He thought. 

He hesitated at the front of the Tozier’s house, even though half the windows were lit from the inside and Richie’s parents never seemed annoyed at him being there― but it _was_ eleven o’clock. Something felt off, and not in a bad way. Eddie knew that if he stepped into their house again this time, something would change. _Could_ change. 

_“Are you gonna stand there and look pretty all night, Kaspbrak, or are you gonna come in? I could hear your old ass bike from down the street,"_ Richie was at the door, holding it open while waving one hand back and forth vigorously like he was swatting a fly. 

“What’s with your hand?” Eddie asked while setting his bike next to Richie’s on their lawn. But as he drew closer he already saw the answer. 

“Black _nail_ polish?” 

Richie leered down at him, dark curls of hair falling in his face. _Since when did he get so tall?_

“Yes siree, just for fun s’all. Gotta get _dollled_ up for my special someone, right?” He admired his own handiwork, chewed fingernails covered in haphazard smears of black polish, “C’mon, pipsqueak, my parents are going to bed soon and are gonna wonder what I’m doing freezin’ my tits off out here for.” He ruffled Eddie’s hair and shoved him in the house. 

As they climbed the stairs to Richie’s room Eddie took in the small arrayof family photos adorning the walls: many of them were of Richie in grade school, all bug-eyed glasses and scraped knees. But peppered amongst the frames were pictures taken recently― high school dances, the Losers crowded awkwardly around the photo booth, singles of Mr and Mrs Tozier― and one of _just_ Eddie and Rich, back in the second grade, which made his heart stop. They were hugging each other and grinning into the camera, showing off their missing teeth. _A much simpler time_. It warmed his heart that they had hung it up at all, and wondered to himself why he’d never stopped to notice it there before. 

“No lung-sucker today, sweets?” Eddie was standing at the door to his room when he blinked back to reality. 

“Huh?” He asked, seeing that Richie was letting his eyes trail him up and down from across the room, from his messy hair all the way to the sweats he’d thrown on before leaving. It was intrusive...but it felt _good_. 

Eddie caught himself. _What has gotten into him today?_

Richie mimed the action of a fish breathing in air, “Your _aspirator? The Security Blanket to Surpass All Security Blankets?”_

Instead of answering― or admitting to himself he’d actually _left_ his aspirator at home― he only grumbled, “You know, it’s rude to stare.” 

“Nah, you love it, Eds. And you know it,” Richie laughed and spun around to make his bed. 

They fell into an awkward silence as Eddie sat cross-legged on the carpet with feigned interest at Richie straightening up his disaster of a bedroom with still-wet fingernails. They had to shut off the main light― his parents were asleep, but were fond of occasionally checking on him if it was still on― leaving the two to rely solely on the dim desk lamp to see. 

“Why’d you paint your stupid nails if you’re gonna get that black shit all over your bed? Those chemicals could be toxic,” Eddie advised in a whisper, but grinned like a fool at Richie’s hunched form trying to gingerly pick up laundry with two fingers. 

He shot him a suggestive smirk. “That’s not the only thing I’d be getting all over the bed.” 

To avoid that sudden visual (and the heat that consumed his entire body) Eddie stood and chucked a fallen paperback at Richie’s back. He let out a dramatic groan and collapsed face first onto the bed― but only seconds after flipped over and yanked Eddie’s arms toward him, pulling them both down into a tight embrace. All of the air rushed out of his chest as he was suddenly on top of him in a yelp, Richie leaving his arms wrapped around his middle. 

_“Let me go!_ I can smell the nail polish from over here,” Eddie whined with a blush, though not entirely opposed to how close they were; with Richie’s arms holding him, feeling the steady beat of his heart under his cheek― _was it quickening?―_ and their noses almost touching. 

Richie didn’t budge. “Shut up. I’m tired, Eds. Just cuddle me,” He muttered over Eddie’s hair and removed a hand from his waist to switch off the lamp. 

“Get your nasty fingers off me,” Eddie mumbled against Richie’s thin chest, but only half-heartedly. 

“Oh shush. Just lookit how long your hair’s getting,” Richie returned his hand and ran it through Eddie’s hair quietly, silencing his protest. His scalp shivered with pleasure at the contact; he _never_ expected something like this from him at all. Well, _maybe_ he did―things like this only happened when they were alone. 

“That’s what happens when your mother won’t take you to a barber _.”_

_“That’s because she’s too busy with me.”_

"Be... _quiet,”_ Eddie blindly smacked his shoulder; though he felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness, lulled by Richie’s warm hands in his hair and the gentle rise of his chest. _When was the last time I had been held like this?_ He thought. 

Richie placed his glasses beside them with a clatter. He sighed and eased back down, not caring that neither were under the covers, or disturbed by Eddie’s light body asleep on top of him. Only when Eddie slept over was he a different person―for the most part. He didn’t sleep on the floor like he used to in the beginning; he didn’t get worked up over forgetting a toothbrush or even his aspirator; he did not shriek and recoil at his touch. Over the weeks there was a gradual shift in his best friend. Even in Richie himself, and he was only now starting to understand just _what_. 

All Richie knew was the weight of Eddie’s body was keeping his frenetic mind tethered to the Earth in ways nothing else could, and holding him close filled his heart with a fierce protection that he’d never experienced before. And for a brief moment of clarity, that maybe he knew all along, _it felt right._

* * *

Eddie was curled up against Richie’s chest when he opened his eyes. He blinked into the darkness, trying to understand how he’d gotten stuck in his arms. In the confusion he was pulled into a set of memories, unsure if they were dreams, his mind flashed through the images and conversations from the night as delicately as Richie’s fingers laced on the small of his back―and Eddie knew they were real. 

_The world started to tilt. Eddie looked up from a deep sleep and saw he was lying on his right side now; Richie had lifted him up off his chest only minutes after he’d dozed off. Richie sat up and placed a flannel blanket over them that had been draped on the bed. Eddie was drowsy, and a little annoyed at being woken up; but his body shivered without anything covering him, and he wasn't entirely ready to deny the opportunity, so he welcomed the blanket―and Richie’s open arms._

_“Sorry, Eddie. I knew you were comfortable. I just thought you were getting kinda cold. Gotta help a guy out, right? C_ ’ _mere,” Richie whispered to his ear, resting a hand against his torso and pulling him closer. Eddie ignored the tugging sensation in his head to move away and nestled into his exposed neck―silently thanking himself for being the short one. They lay like that, their faces hot from the other's breath and unexpected blush. In the stillness Richie ran a careful finger down his shoulder blades all the way to his spine, almost in contemplation._

_“We could never tell the others about this, could we?“ Eddie's heart sunk at Richie's dejected voice, not at all sounding like the playful sixteen year old boy he knew._

_“I, uh, don't think so, Rich,“ Eddie whispered back, letting their eyes meet in the dark. He hesitated for a moment before there was a reply._

_"I wouldn't mind, you know. If they knew. It's been this way for months.“_

_Eddie felt slightly irritated at this―but knew he was only getting mad to hide the true feeling: shock._

_“For them to know about...this, means there has to be something, right?“_

_“What do you mean?“_

_“Something there. Something...between us,“ He wouldn't meet his eyes then, though his gaze was arresting._

_“And you think,“ Richie put a hand to Eddie's chin, forcing him to look up, “There isn't?“_

_He held his breath, hating himself for the color that flooded his cheeks―and that Richie could probably feel the heat of it under his fingers. As Richie loosened his grip on Eddie's chin he found himself leaning towards him, his body acting on its own accord; he got close enough that as Richie exhaled, the warm air of his mouth blew into his parted lips―waiting, waiting. Eddie's head spun out of control as he broke his own walls and let his lips press against his. The kiss was uncharted territory, soft and sweet, but they embraced it. And as he kissed him back Eddie already knew the answer to Richie's question._

_They both pulled away with little enthusiasm, and Richie let out a long breath of relief._

_“You would be a terrible liar if you told me you thought that was nothing,“ He chuckled._

_“I never knew what to do with it. With us,” Eddie said, for the first time pleasantly out of breath, “What that meant.“_

_Richie reached for his hands and Eddie accepted his touch with a nervous smile neither could see._

_“We can make it mean something.“_

  
  


The room was a shadowy blue as Eddie returned to the present, and if he listened hard enough he could hear the birds outside over Richie _'_ s snores. _Probably six in the morning,_ if Eddie guessed corre. _His parents would be getting up soon._ He stared up at his friend's sleeping face and his heart swelled with nerves. _How am I supposed to sneak out the window this time? Just wake him up?_ He couldn't _bear_ to do that. 

But it seemed as though he didn't have to. An alarm clock went off on the nightstand, breaking the silence with a mechanical whine. Richie _'_ s hands released Eddie and patted around for his glasses until he slid them on and shut off the clock with a content sigh. He turned back around―his black hair clinging to one side of his face, eyes huge and heavy lidded beneath the lenses―to find Eddie peering up at him with blundered affection. 

" _You know, it's rude to stare,"_ Richie grumbled, stretching up toward the ceiling, showing off a stretch of his pale waist. Eddie just sat and watched him―as he often did―while he woke up, all of Richie's movements were sluggish and _much_ funnier than any of his Voices. It was probably his favorite part about the countless times he'd stayed over. 

Richie went over to the dresser, flipped on the light and fumbled inside the first drawer, producing a pack of cigarettes. Eddie felt an irrational pang of concern that when he went home his mother would smell the smoke on his clothes. But that didn’t matter. There were much more important things ahead. 

“Uh, _Richie?”_ He piped up, afraid of facing him so instead stayed under the safety of the blanket. 

“Yes, Eddie my love?” Richie’s back was to him, but the dresser still showed his face amongst the wisps of smoke. 

His stomach clenched. 

( _My love.)_

Eddie felt the traitorous air leave his lungs and wished for a hopeless moment he’d taken his aspirator. “Are we gonna...uh, _well-_ ”

 _"Telling the others?_ We sure are, Eds.” 

He scrambled to reply. “Well, _wait!_ Are we sure we want to do this?” 

Richie blew a puff through his nose and stamped the cigarette in a porcelain dish. 

“I wouldn't be surprised if they _already_ knew about us,” Richie inspected his reflection before going back to Eddie, “ _This_ might be a secret, but we sure don’t do a good job hiding―” Richie’s sentence was choked up by his own obnoxious laughter. 

“Stop it! Why’re you laughing? They’ll _hear_ you!” 

“You’ve got nail polish on your face! _Lawks-a-mussy! Jus’ lookie here!”_ Richie howled, taking Edddie’s face in his hands and pinching the dried spots on his cheeks. 

“Screw you, Richie. You’re such a turd.” Eddie blushed furiously and pushed his hands away. 

“Nope, you’re still a cutie, Eddie. An’ yer _all mine._ ” Richie sat down next to him and planted a wet kiss on his pink cheek. 

“Richie! You just smoked a cigarette!” Eddie cried, putting a hand to Richie’s mouth to move his face further away. 

Richie sighed dreamily, staring at an imaginary camera in some high girly Voice, “ _Someday he’ll learn to love me. I just know it! First his mom..and now him!”_

“You _know_ I hate that.” 

Richie grinned and brought him to his feet. “Oh, I know. I just like seeing the look on your face when you’re angry with me. It’s quite adorable.” 

_“Richard! Breakfast downstairs!”_ Mrs. Tozier called from the kitchen. 

They spun around to look at each other. 

“Should I go in the closet?” 

“After last night, is that really necessary?” Richie smirked. 

“That’s _not_ what I meant."

“Just hang in here till I’m done,” he stepped closer to Eddie and kissed him quickly before he could shy away, “Then the Losers are in for a surprise.” 

  
  



	2. 'Cute'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Eddie and Richie break some news to the Losers Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a trigger warning! There's some mild homophobia and racist implication!!

* * *

_“According to your heart,_  
 _My place is not deliberate,_   
_Feeling of your arms_  
 _I don’t wanna be your friend_   
_I wanna kiss your neck.”_

**_\- fallingforyou / the 1975_ **

* * *

They were nearing the opening of the dense undergrowth into the Barrens—the marshy stretch of untouched land hiding their childhood clubhouse—and Eddie was wrung out with nerves, his achy lungs working double time. 

_We’re telling the others..._  
  
Richie had called each of the Losers separately, forcing a mandatory meeting—“ _No questions asked!..No, we can’t tell you what it is!”_ He talked most of the way there, supplying the occasional joke to fill the silence. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at him. Richie didn’t understand personal space, and his closeness gave Eddie enough reason to stare; at his lean body as it cast a thin shadow across the dirt while they walked, his dark eyes shining with each laugh. _He’s aged really well_ , Eddie thought with admiration, after remembering the skinny faced fifth grader he used to be. 

A summer memory of Richie came back to him suddenly: in his mind he saw a young Richie’s legs stagger down the dirt hill into the Barrens. Richie, with his coke-bottle glasses and baggy graphic tee, taking in Eddie for the first time with his mouth slightly agape. He remembered the look on his face, his sweaty hair dark from that hot day and his cheeks turned a bright pink when their eyes met. They stood facing each other for a few seconds till Richie bit down on his lower lip, grinned sheepishly and squeezed Eddie’s cheek with thumb and forefinger. Then dashed away. 

Richie’s arms swung at his sides like a child’s, bringing Eddie’s attention to his hands. _After yesterday..would that be any different? Wait, stop thinking about that, Eddie. Boys don’t hold hands—even ones that kiss you. And call you adorable. And maybe even want to date you._ His mind started to reel at these facts, making every breath whistle through his lungs like an old tea kettle. _Jeez, cut it out!_

Richie turned his head at the sound of the wheezing—the first to tease him about his asthma (“ _Who left Eddie on the stove?_ ”)—but changed his mischievous smile when he saw Eddie’s red face.

He clicked his tongue. “I know _that_ look. Spit it out, Eds.” 

But his eyes stayed locked on Richie’s fingers, imagining the softness of that hand in his own. His gentle touch. _Stop it._

“It’s nothing, _really_.”

“Tell me! Wait, are you blushing? You’re _blushing_! My Eddie’s got a _crush_!” Richie sang. 

Eddie’s breathing steadied enough to muster, “I- uh, _can I hold your hand?”_

Immediately Richie’s grin widened, making his eyes glimmer beneath his glasses. With no hesitation he reached for Eddie’s hand and intertwined their fingers, like he’d been wanting to all this time. His stomach twisted at the press of their hands, and a feeling like little motes of dust were tickling along his insides started to form. _Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? This_ okay _?_

“Only because you’re so _cute_.” Richie crooned and titled his head toward him. 

“Shut up.”

Richie ignored him and held his hand tighter. “Oh boy, is Ben gonna be relieved. He’s got such a tight ass around Bev, he thinks I’ve been hitting on her.”

“That’s because you make it look like you’re in love with everyone, Richie.”

“I’ve only got eyes for you, Spaghetti.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted, _“Four of them.”_

They approached the break in the brush and Richie pulled the tall grass and weeds aside. Eddie caught a glimpse of Bill’s figure sitting at the mouth of the clubhouse across from Stanley and Mike, their bare arms and faces sunburnt. 

_“Oh! Hola señors!”_ Richie called to them, waving their clasped hands over his head.

_“Richie!”_ Eddie hissed, blushing like mad at the boys being able to see their open display of affection. He wouldn’t let Eddie jerk his hand away, even as Richie pulled them along to the clubhouse door. 

Stan took a curious glance at their hands and began, “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I _think_ I already know why you dragged us all the way out here—“ 

_“Richie!”_

He spun them around and greeted Beverley—followed by Ben, his arm wrapped precariously around her shoulders—with a side hug. 

“ _O-O-Okay._ So you b-brought us o-o-out here, wu-wu-what _now_?” Bill asked.

“Wait, Rich, are your _nails_ painted?” Bev took his free hand and inspected Richie’s fingers with a smile. 

“Looks like shit to me,” Ben laughed, and Eddie couldn’t be more appreciative of him than in that moment. 

“You betcha, baby. And that’s not the only big change we got coming for ya.” At his words Eddie started feeling nauseous, his fingers trembling in Richie’s. 

He let go of Eddie’s hand to place an arm tentatively around his shoulders, steadying him. “S’okay, Eds,” He whispered, smiling. Eddie leaned into his side, for a moment forgetting the others staring at them and focused on Richie. 

He started, “We um, well, we’ve got something we need to, uh, _say_.” 

_“O-O-Obviously.”_

Richie squeezed his shoulder. He spoke in the most serious voice they’d heard him use, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell ‘em. The fact of the matter folks, is this: _Richie and I are madly in love. That’s right. Simply rrravishing. We’ve been sleeping together for the last few months. I know, I know, it’s a big shock for some of you. But ole Eddie and I are meant to be together, ya hear?_ ” 

Eddie choked on his own breath. He stomped on Richie’s big toe with his sneaker. _Did he always have to sound so dramatic?_

“Ow! Well I’m not wrong! _You’ve been coming to my house since March!”_

“W-we _aren’t_. It’s not, _like_ that—” Eddie managed but fell into a coughing fit. 

The Losers watched their bickering in silence, incredulous. 

“So..you’re together?” Bev asked, leaning forward with a kind smile. 

“Y-yes,” Eddie said mildly.

“You guys! That’s awesome!” Beverley clapped her hands together, her brilliant green eyes shining at the both of them.

“If I’m being honest? I saw this coming from a mile away. _Blindfolded.”_ Stanley said, deadpan. 

Bill laughed at this and said, “I’m ru-ru-really happy f-for you g-guys. I-I-It’s about ti-ti-time.”

“It _was_ time, wasn’t it Big Bill?” Richie smiled down at Eddie, who was hiding his face in the crook of Richie’s arm. 

Mike and Ben were the last to give input—with Mike looking down into the bottom of the clubhouse while Ben played with a strand of Beverley’s hair. 

“Remember that time we found you guys in the _hammock_?” Mike pondered, more curious than uncomfortable. A few of them shared knowing looks.

After a thoughtful pause Mike continued, “So, does that mean.. _you two,_ y’know-“ 

Both Eddie and Richie blushed, the hand on his shoulder tightened in surprise.

Ben spluttered out a laugh, his face scrunched up in disgust. “ _Nope_! I don’t wanna hear about that. C’mon Bevvie,” He hauled himself up and took Beverley by the arm.

“W-W-Where’re you g-g-going?” 

“Yeah, Haystack. At least leave your girl here. We spilled our guts to you and you’re just gonna _leave_?” Richie put an exaggerated hand to his chest. 

“We’re going to get popsicles at Costello’s.” Ben didn’t bother turning around, he just lead Beverley out of the grass. The Losers could hear her protests as they disappeared.    


“I _am_ sweating like a pig,” Mike commented, “Popsicles sound nice. We should all go so Richie and Eddie can bother him some more.” 

“G-Good idea, M-M-Mikey. I-I’ll get one f-for _Juh-Juh-Georgie_ too,” Bill scraped the dirt off his pants and followed them into the thicket. 

“It _is_ quite hot, but only cause cutie’s here,” Richie poked Eddie’s chest, then patted his pants, “I’ve got some money, Eds. Wanna go?”

Eddie looked at Bill’s hopeful face and Stanley’s indifferent one, and nodded. They didn’t seem upset at their news, and that eased his worry. _Even in Derry, of all places, at least some people had an open mind._

“Awe, shucks. It’ll be our _first date.”_

“If you call it that again I’m walking home,” Eddie punched his shoulder lightly.

“You guys are making me lonely,” Stanley sighed. 

“Y-Y-You’ve always g-g-got me, S-S-Stan the M-Man.”

The four burst into laughter at this. 

* * *

“What! _Guys_ , come on. It can never just be Bev and me, can it?” Ben groaned at the sight of the five ascending the steps into Costello Avenue Market. 

“N-Nope.”

“Why would it?” Stanley laughed. 

“That sounds _mighty_ boring, señor,” Richie said to Ben while holding the door open for Eddie. He welcomed the cool draft of air conditioning once inside. 

Beverley and Ben were sharing a popsicle, and upon seeing this Richie’s grin widened and he reached for Eddie’s hand. 

“Can we-“

“ _Absolutely not.”_

“Because of?” He gestured to the cashier eyeing their hands with a deep frown.

“No, Rich. _Germs_. Spit alone has millions of strands of bacteria and DNA that could-” 

Richie held up a hand. “ _Alright_. Beep beep, Encyclopedia.” 

Bill paid for both his and Mike’s—the man behind the register was an older gentlemen and the Losers cringed as his lips pulled back into a sneer at the money Mike put in front of him—and they headed outside with Ben and Beverley. 

“What? _You_ want to share?” Richie looked at Stanley who was still standing there. 

He shook his head with a sigh. “Not really hungry. I’ll go keep an eye on the lovebirds.” 

_“I hope you’re talking about Ben and Bevvie!”_ Richie shouted after him.

The cashier loudly cleared his throat. 

Richie spun them back. “Ah, _hello_.” 

Eddie led them to the freezer, picked out a packaged vanilla cone and an orange popsicle and handed them to Richie. 

“Is that all?” The man asked, his eyes never leaving their hands. 

“ _This_ for my sweet,” Richie set the ice cream down on the glass counter; then the popsicle, “And _this_ one for me, good sir.”

The man grunted and accepted the money. “All right. But eat it outside, I don’t need no _queers_ stinking up my store.” 

Eddie watched an expression he’d never seen before cross his boyfriend’s face. Richie scowled at the man and spoke indignantly,

“I’d appreciate it if you’d get that _stick_ out of your _ass_.” He grabbed their ice cream and hauled Eddie out by the hand, cursing under his breath. 

The cashier yelled after them, “Yeah, you get out! You bunch are all a _freak show_! You and your.. _twink_ belong in a looney bin! The whole lot of you!” 

“I’m sorry Eddie. Some people are real shitheads.” Richie said once they were out of earshot. 

“We’re not a _disease. Are we?"_ Eddie mumbled. The man’s words burned in his head like hot coals. 

“Of _course_ we’re not.” When Richie opened the door, everyone was staring.

“What’s the matter?” Mike asked, and Eddie realized with a flush of embarrassment that he’d been crying.

Richie jutted a finger at the market window. “That _asshole_ had a bone to pick about Eddie and me. Whatever happened to the last clerk? He was so nice to us.” 

“Y-Y-You show em, g-guys. W-We’re all here f-for you.” Bill held his popsicle away from him and slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulder. The others joined in, even Ben, giving the two a small hug. 

Richie wiped the side of his face with his thumb, catching his tears. “It’s okay, Spaghetti. Don’t waste tears on that guy.”

Eddie sniffed. “Shut up already and give me my ice cream.” 

He held the package of ice cream above his head, jeering, “Only for a kiss.” 

“You can’t hold that against me! _Short privilege!”_ Eddie whined, playfully clawing his shirt trying to reach. 

Ben rolled his eyes. “You _guys_.”

“I’m sorry, but how exactly is this any different than how they _normally_ act?” Stan said, exasperated. 

“C’mon, Eds,” Richie tapped his mouth, “ _Right_ there.”

" _Everyone look away,_ ” Eddie cast a nervous glance at the Losers but they promptly turned around. 

Richie quickly grabbed Eddie’s shirt collar and pulled him in—with the ice cream still poised above his head. For a moment Eddie forgot about the others behind them and held onto Richie’s shirt, kissing him deeper, not caring if everyone in Derry could see. _Fuck this homophobic town_ , he thought. 

Richie’s hand went down to cradle his warm cheek. His soft lips were inviting, making him want more; and Eddie’s already unsteady breathing sped up and hitched in his throat. 

“ _Ahem_.” 

“G-God, you t-t-two _done_ already?” 

They moved away slightly, with Eddie still holding a firm grip on his shirt. His breathing evened out, grey eyes locked with Richie’s. 

“Eat your ice cream before I make you do that again,” He loosened Eddie’s hands and put some awkward distance between them, still blushing and breathless. 

“You two are so _cute_!” Beverley shrieked, her head resting on Ben’s shoulder. 

“Yes..That’s the _perfect_ adjective to use, of course,” Stanley said. 

Eddie straightened Richie’s glasses and took his hand. “ _Cute_. Yeah, I guess so,” he said with a shy smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Needed some cavity causing fluff so here you go!! Hope you like it!!


End file.
